Found You Out
by BlackLagoon01
Summary: A Frenchman, an American, a Brit, and a Japanese man walk into a bar. Chaos ensues. One-shot.


Arthur Kirkland was tired. He realized that this was the only word to really describe him at the moment; he wasn't happy, but he wasn't sad. He wasn't angry or irritated or nostalgic or any other kind of emotion. He was simply numb.

And very, very tired.

It had been Francis's fault, of course. It seemed like lately, anything strange that happened was Francis's fault, in one way or another.

Granted, it had also been partially Alfred's fault, as well as Arthur's own. It may have been Francis's… erm… _eagerness_ that reduced Arthur to this state, but it was also Alfred's cluelessness and Arthur's drunkenness. These factors eventually combined to result in:

 **Francis** stress-eating Brownie Brittle on the couch, with classical radio playing in the background, swamped in regret.

 **Alfred** practicing his baseball swings in his backyard, humming "Bohemian Rhapsody" to himself, swamped in regret and trying desperately to forget.

 **Arthur** lying on his couch, Downton Abbey playing on mute, completely and totally exhausted and numb but unable to sleep. Swamped in regret, and veritably drowning in it.

It all began when Alfred asked Arthur to have a drink with him. Arthur had been a bit flustered; Alfred had never asked to do anything with him before. Confused and apprehensive though he was, Arthur had accepted the invitation. Later that evening, Alfred had pulled up to his house. He looked so handsome… he had left his usual bomber jacket behind and sat behind the wheel in a simple white collared shirt, with his tie loosened and the top button undone. Arthur had felt just a bit overdressed, in his usual khakis and sweater vest, but Alfred didn't say anything. He just smiled, said hello, leaned over to open the door for Arthur, and once Arthur was in, they were off.

After the pair got out of Alfred's car, Alfred's hand slipped around Arthur's waist. The Brit was extremely bothered by this, but he figured it would be rude to push Alfred away. Besides, he would be lying if he said he didn't like it… at least a little. But Alfred didn't need to know that.

The arm was still around Arthur's waist by the time they were in the bar. Francis was very quick to notice this: "Mon Dieu! Has my little Arthur finally gotten a boyfriend?" Shortly after saying this, he slipped his own arm around Arthur's waist. "Careful, you'll make me jealous!"

"Francis, I'd really prefer you didn't do that." Francis removed his arm, but still continued to grin devilishly. "You kids have fun!" He then retreated to a small table over in the corner, where there was an unopened bottle of red wine and a single glass waiting.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "What an ass."

"He's hardly an ass. He may be misinformed, seeing as we're not dating, but he is most certainly not an ass."

"Well…" Alfred's grip on Arthur tightened. "Aren't we dating?"

Arthur finally got up the nerve to push Alfred's arm away. "Of course we're not! I thought this was just supposed to be a drink between friends…" His cheeks began to burn. "...or something."

"If you say so…" The American and the Brit each took a place at the bar, and the bartender wasted no time in making his way over.

"Antonio, my man!"

The Spaniard in question smiled warmly. "Alfred! I see you're back. Will it be the usual?"

"You bet! And a brandy for my… friend."

Antonio's eyebrows shot up. "So Arthur is your _friend_ , hm?

Arthur cleared his throat. "Yes. Nothing less…" he gave Alfred a sideways glance. "And nothing more."

"Oh, that is too bad…" Two glasses were placed on the counter. Antonio filled one with brandy, and the other with bourbon.

Alfred raised his full glass to both of the gentlemen at the bar. "To friendship."

"To friendship," repeated Arthur and Antonio. Francis, in the back corner, also raised his wine glass, whispering, "To amour." Antonio busied himself with cleaning glasses as the rest of the company present drank their toast.

The half-hour that followed was oddly tense. Alfred and Arthur tried to make small talk, but they found that they had very little in common to begin with. Francis watched from afar, straining his ears to catch every bit of the conversation. He analyzed every word.

"So… how's Matthew?"

"Oh, Mattie's great. I haven't seen him for a while. He's been gone for hockey, then I think I heard he met somebody… I really don't know. He says he's doing fine."

"I'm glad to hear that. The last time I saw him, he was head-over-heels for…" Arthur glanced back at the wine drinker in the corner. "Well, you know."

The American chucked. "Believe me, I know all too well."

Arthur rested his chin in his hands, feeling the warmth of alcohol coming to his face. "That was around the time you started dating Kiku, wasn't it?"

Alfred's smile fades. "Oh… yeah, I think that's right."

"What happened between you two, anyway?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure. I forgot to tell you, but I extended an invitation—"

The door swung open, revealing the stoic face of Kiku Honda.

"Wait here for a minute, okay?"

Arthur nodded, although he wasn't quite sure if it was "okay".

"Kiku! My gosh, it's been a while."

"Yes… it has."

"You look good."

"O-oh… arigatou. So do you."

Arthur tuned them out. It wasn't really his business what they said to each other anyway… They were probably just talking about the new season of _Durarara._ Right?

Francis, meanwhile, saw his golden opportunity. Antonio was in the back room, and Alfred was off talking to somebody else, leaving Arthur alone. He seized the opportunity and took his wine glass over to sit next to the lonely Brit.

"So, Arthur." Arthur jumped. "Is it true that you and Alfred are only friends?"

"Of course it is! He's just my good…" he glanced over to see Alfred laughing raucously at something Kiku said. "Friend."

"Ah, what a shame… are you seeing someone?"

"W-what? Why would you ask something silly like that?"

The Frenchmen smiled seductively. "No reason in particular."

Arthur saw no reason to lie. "Well, no." He blinked up at Francis, who had started to lean forward. "Please don't come any closer."

"Hm, why not? Are you scared of me?"

"Well, not really, it's just… not right. It's not right."

"But what isn't right about it? You said yourself that you're not seeing anyone. Besides, you're a bit drunk, so you might not even remember this."

Arthur leaned away from Francis, but Francis only kept inching closer. "That doesn't make it alright."

Francis's hand was on the back of Arthur's neck now. There was no escaping this… he snuck one last glance back at Alfred. His arm was around Kiku's waist now, just as it had been around his own. "But I suppose… I can allow it."

Francis's lips were on his cheek… and it felt wonderful. So long had Francis watched him from afar, wanting to do this, and now it was finally a reality. It felt so right… but there was one small part of him that was warning him against it. He ignored it, and moved on to Arthur's lips. So soft… and Arthur was kissing him back. This was everything Francis had ever wanted. So why…

Francis pulled away to see tears streaming down Arthur's face. "Arthur…" He wiped the tears away. "What's the matter?"

He shook his head. "Nothing." To block out further conversation, as well as hide his tears, he kissed Francis again.

It hurt. It hurt to know that Alfred was talking to somebody else, had his arm around somebody else, but it also hurt to try and drown it out. That didn't stop Arthur from trying, though.

"Alfred-san?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind telling me, what is your relationship with Kirkland-san?"

"Oh, that? He's an old friend of mine."

"And nothing more? Are you sure?"

"Look, Kiku. I'm not sure why you're so interested in this, seeing as we're not even going out anymore."

"No, no. It's nothing like that, but…"

Alfred was beginning to sound angry. "Kiku, what is it?"

"Turn around, Alfred-san."

A firm hand appeared on Arthur's shoulder, pulling him off of Francis.

"N-no!"

"Arthur, we need to talk."

Alfred's brow was furrowed. Kiku was still at the table next to the door where he and the American had been talking.

"No, I don't think we do."

Francis raised his hand. "I agree, for what it's worth."

"Shut up, Frog."

"No, I advise that _you_ shut up. You're the one who abandoned Arthur here for… um…"

Arthur interjected, "Your ex. Or is he your ex?"

"Arthur, just—"

"Just what? Look, It's clear that I'm not that important to you. If you're so hell-bent on getting back together with Kiku that you invited him to go drinking with _us_ , then I'm leaving."

"But—" The door slams, leaving the bar in a shocked silence. "But you pushed me away."

He thinks for a moment. "And I was your ride here," he says to the closed door.

"Alfred-san?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going home."

"Alright, Kiku."

And just like that, Alfred and Francis were alone. "Alfred, I—"

"Don't talk to me." Francis put his hand on his shoulder, but Alfred gave him a death glare and shoved his hand away.

"Goodnight, Mr. Jones."

France disappeared out the door, as well. Alfred took a deep breath and hollered a farewell to Antonio, who was fortunate enough to have missed the entire debacle. Then he left, leaving the bar empty.

It didn't take him long to catch up with Arthur, given the fact that he was a bit tipsy and stumbled a bit as he walked. "Arthur."

"For God's sake, what do you want?" The Brit's face was still streaked with tears.

"Do you want a ride?"

"I don't want anything from you."

"Arthur, you're going to get mugged. Just get in the fucking car." This got his attention.

The ride home was the most painful ride that either of them had ever had. It felt like it took ages to get to Arthur's driveway.

Arthur opened the door. "Alfred?"

No response.

"I loved you, you know."

Alfred sighed. "Please don't, Arthur. Just don't."

Arthur closed the door, letting Alfred drive off without another word. It was then that he realized just how tired he was.

Alfred gripped the steering wheel tighter and tried not to look at Arthur as he pulled out of the driveway. "There is no 'loved', Arthur," he said to himself. "I still do…" he swallowed. "...love you."

A taker and a giver

Oh, you made me shiver

Couldn't I deliver

Oh, I guess I found you out

-"Found You Out" by Sir Sly

* * *

Here's to my first Hetalia fic! I know it's kind of a bummer, but I'm not that great with romance. Sorry. :'(


End file.
